


Can We Go Back to Bed?

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, M/M, Rimming, oh the usual, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes up in a bed not his own, something he hasn't done in a long time. What's worse, it's Hannibal's bed- and he has no idea how to handle that awkward morning after feeling, or the fact that all he really wants to do is coax the good doctor back under the sheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can We Go Back to Bed?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LazyBaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/gifts).



> So this came about because of [this post](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com/post/81161767776/hannibal-au-morning-after) on Tumblr. So it's all LazyBaker's fault.

Waking up in a bed that wasn’t his own was enough to throw Will off balance. Waking up naked in a bed that wasn’t his own was enough to convince him he was still dreaming.

He rolled from his side to his back, staring up, knowing he was alone. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he shouldn’t be alone. In that moment he was groggy enough to barely know who he was, so it didn’t matter. He reached up, ran a hand along his face, over his stubble, licked at his lips. The sheets seemed to melt against his skin, a liquid silk, and he sighed, stretching, letting his muscles pull and pop along bone. There was a bit of an ache inside his body, between his legs- and it stopped him mid stretch. It woke him up.

He sat up with a start, looking at the empty place beside him where Hannibal had been last he knew. He turned to the bedside table, the clock telling him it was about eight thirty, and he nearly threw himself from the bed. Forgoing his glasses, Will looked around for his clothing, groaning internally. When he finally found them, everything was folded on a chair in the corner of the room. Will pulled his boxer briefs on, then his faded grey t-shirt, and left the rest of his clothing on the chair, feeling as if he had no time for it.

He had to find Hannibal- and he wasn’t entirely sure _why_.

Leaving the master bedroom, the hallway smelled like coffee and breakfast- not the type of breakfast that Will couldn’t recognize, but eggs, something meaty. Something he was comfortable with. His pace slowed as he made his way down the stairs, walking into the dining room with a table set with glasses- orange juice at two opposite seats, the head of the table left empty. Will walked past it, eyes drifting into the kitchen, where he finally found Hannibal.

He looked put together, if casual. Will wasn’t sure he’d seen him in anything remotely as _normal_ as that red sweater- he thought back and couldn’t think of anything- and the way his bangs dusted along his forehead made him seem far less intimidating. He looked _sweet_.

Hannibal looked up form the skillet, smiling at Will- soft, calming. “Good morning.” Will opened his mouth to speak, found he had no voice, and simply nodded. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Will was famished. He had a feeling Hannibal more than _thought_ that.

Hannibal left the skillet alone, moving over to the coffee instead, and as he stirred a spoonful of sugar into the cup and handed it to Will, he finally managed in a voice that boasted a break, “thank you.” Hannibal smiled, let his fingers graze Will’s longer than need be.

He wasn’t sure if he was wake or dreaming. He took a sip of the coffee and contemplated dreaming. No way what he was piecing together of the past night had truly happened.

“If you would like,” Hannibal offered, “You can have a seat at the table. Or you may keep me company. The choice is yours.”

Will wanted to take the first option and disappear. He felt awkward standing there, piecing together the fact that Hannibal’s mouth had been on his own, on his body- _every inch of it_. He chewed at his lip, took another sip of the coffee to steal himself.

“I feel like I at least owe you the company,” Will forced out.

“You owe me nothing, Will.” Hannibal picked up his own coffee, leaving the food for a minute as he walked around the counter, taking a sip, slipping his arm around Will’s shoulders. Will had the feeling he would have rather put it around Will’s waist, but that he was attempting to be polite. Will was sure Hannibal could read the nervousness on his face. “If anything, I believe I owe you.” He chuckled, and Will’s mind raced, trying to piece together which part of the night he could be referring to.

It all seemed so fast, so jumbled inside his mind. Hannibal’s mouth on his, teeth and tongue and lips and hand everywhere, tugging at clothing. Will squirming, pushing up against him, blathering about what he wasn’t sure as Hannibal stripped the two of them.

His cheeks flushed as he remembered Hannibal’s mouth prepping him, teasing him. _Everywhere_.

“Not sure how you got that idea,” Will mumbled, “Not from what I remember, anyway.” Hannibal chuckled, pulling back.

“Go have a seat Will. I will be out in a minute.”

This time Will did.

He sat there- noticeably a bit sore and that was terrifying to him because he _knew_ what he’d done, his mind recreating, showing him nearly screaming and Hannibal pushing down against his back, pushing him into the mattress and Will begging for more because _it felt like nothing else he’d ever experienced_.

Where in the hell did he find the voice to _ask_ Hannibal for anything like that?

The man in question came out a moment later, carrying two plates. He set one down in front of Will, then one at his own seat, returning to the kitchen to retrieve his coffee. As he settled, he smiled at Will- still small, still not overbearing.

“I thought something simple would make you feel more comfortable,” he pointed out, “A simple protein scramble.”

“Fitting,” Will said, “Like the first thing you ever made for me. Recreating our first date?” Will shocked himself with that, blushing, but Hannibal’s smile broadened.

“Something like that, yes.” Will looked away, down at his plate, and ate in silence, unsure what he should be saying. What was there to talk about- should he ask how the hell they got to this point? Should he ask how a glass of wine had led to Hannibal exploring Will in ways Will hadn’t even known were possible? He hadn’t been drunk- that he knew. He couldn’t blame the wine. This was all on him, in the pit of his stomach, that desire he’d thwarted before, shrugged off.

What was scary was that he wanted _more_. And he couldn’t possibly find a way to voice that- he couldn’t even find a way to make eye contact with Hannibal. He’d look up, catch those eyes in passing, look away. Hannibal pursed his lips but didn’t push. Just observed.

“You’re nervous, Will,” he finally said, when they had stopped eating and Will had begun to simply push the food around his plate. “Would you care to share what is on your mind? I hope you’re not questioning last night.” Will looked up, sucked on his lip for a second.

“Are you?”

“No.”

Will nodded, inhaled. “I just...I don’t know where this came from and...what I should even be doing.” He ran his fingers along the table, felt the polished, smooth wood. “It’s been a long time since I woke up _with_ anyone,” he offered with a laugh. “Even if you weren’t _actually_ there.”

“I thought it may be best if you were to come around on your own,” Hannibal offered, “And that you would welcome the space. Was I mistaken?”

Will thought about it for a second. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he’d woken up and Hannibal had been there. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to breathe. “No,” he admitted, “You weren’t but...can we go back to bed?” His cheeks burned as he asked, still unsure where his voice found the force to create these sounds, these words- to coerce his tongue into speaking. But he wanted to know what it was like to lay there with Hannibal- enough to risk the possible rebuff that Hannibal might want Will to leave now that it was morning.

Hannibal smiled. “Certainly.”

Will helped him place the dishes in the sink, took the time to try and collect himself, brace his nerves. But it was over before it began and Hannibal was guiding him upstairs, towards the bedroom, to the unmade bed that seemed so very out of place in such a perfectly kept home. Will hated that it didn’t fit because he’d touched it- he’d left it as such. But if Hannibal was thinking those thoughts his face didn’t show them. He pulled the blanket back fully and guided Will with a gentle hand at the small of his back, and Will crawled into bed, watching Hannibal slip in next to him, fully dressed.

There was something slightly heartbreaking about that. Will tried to shut it out. He dared to scoot closer to Hannibal, and the man laughed, rolling onto his side and throwing an arm around Will, nuzzling his curls. The sudden burst of affection made his heart hammer in his chest- the smell of Hannibal and his cologne and the heat of his body made his cock stir. Will wasn’t sure which he wanted to stop first.

“There is no need to be shy, William,” he whispered, “I believe we went beyond those limits last night.”

“Yeah, I can still feel it,” Will tried to joke.

“Did I hurt you?” Hannibal’s voice was concerned, and Will felt _bad_ for the joke then.

“No, uh...I don’t think so. I’m a little...sore.” He blushed. “I haven’t, ya know...done this before with another man so I guess that’s probably normal. It’s not bad or anything.”

“I assume you did not ask me to return to bed in the hopes of recreating our night, then.” Will chewed on his lip.

“No. Yes. I... fuck if I know anything right now, Hannibal.” He felt the man’s mouth on his jawline, and Will exhaled slowly. “Fuck if I know anything at all.” Hannibal didn’t speak, moved and mouthed at Will’s neck, his hand running along his side, the surve of his hip. Will wondered for a moment if maybe Hannibal had _wanted_ Will to want him again.

Now _that_ , that was thrilling.

“Uhm, did you...” Will stopped, took a breath, “Did you wanna...you know?” He lifted his hand, waved it a little, and Hannibal laughed, leaning his forehead against Will’s shoulder.

“I do not want to put you into further discomfort,” Hannibal offered, “But I had hoped perhaps you would be interested, yes.”

Well, _hot damn_. Will smiled, rolling onto his side and looking at Hannibal, reaching out to thread his fingers through his hair. He was terrified, nearly shaking, but he pushed through it, closing the gap for a level kiss that made his belly hot. Hot because it meant their height difference was gone because they were laying together- and his body converted that to simply leak _sex_.

“What can I do?” Will asked against his mouth, pushing closer, daring to slip a leg between Hannibal’s so they could entangle. Hannibal captured his lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently.Will groaned. He wanted this far worse than he had let himself believe- so much so it was threatening to completely override his embarrassment and his modesty.

“I don’t believe you are quite ready for me again,” Hannibal admitted, giving Will’s nose a shockingly sweet nudge with his own. “Would you like to try being the aggressor?”

_Aggressor_? Will blanked for a moment, before his mind put the pieces together and his heart was thrusting past his ribs and into the open air, he swore.

“Are you offering to let me fuck you?” Will asked, dumb founded, and Hannibal clicked his tongue.

“In less vulgar terms, yes. If you’re not-“

“I’m interested.” Will couldn’t even bring himself to blush then, the quickness of his response not bothering him. Something was tightening in his belly and he was hot all over and he didn’t even care that it was daylight and he didn’t have to darkness of the night to hide behind now.

The allure of pushing into Hannibal was just _too damn much_.

Will reached for Hannibal’s shoulder, pushed on him and rolled them over, Hannibal onto his back, Will leaning over him, watching down with elated and anxious eyes. “What should I...”

“This is a fair start,” Hannibal said, raising his eyebrows, and Will leaned down to kiss him, keeping him pinned down, lowering his pelvis down to press down into Hannibal’s. Will was half hard just thinking about this, and his hips gyrated down into Hannibal’s of their own accord, the older man pushing up with equal force, the friction enough to cloud Will’s mind. Will pulled back, sat a top Hannibal and pulled his t-shirt off, tossing it aside, before he grabbed the bottom of Hannibal’s sweater and began pushing it up. Hannibal helped him strip it away, but Will let it fall to the corner of the bed, leaning back down to let skin rub skin as he kissed Hannibal again, this time letting his tongue slip into his mouth, tasting mostly coffee and getting a jolt that had nothing to do with caffeine.

Will kissed until he was breathless, until Hannibal was making a small noise into his throat and pushing up- until Will could feel his growing excitement, confined in his clothing still. Will smiled and slipped off him, working his pants open, grabbing everything and trying to hurriedly push it all away. Hannibal gave a breathless laugh and helped, arching up to get everything off his hips, pulling his legs up to knock the clothing free of his calves. Will tried not to stare and failed miserably.

He tried to think what Hannibal had done for him the night before. He didn’t want to have to ask. But it was a blur of movement and Hannibal’s fingers in his mouth and Will gasping and Hannibal assuring him. He remembered Hannibal’s tongue first, and with that nudged at Hannibal until he rolled onto his belly, guiding him to slip onto his knees and arch his hips up.

“Will,” he started, and Will nipped at his ass, playful, heard Hannibal’s breath falter. He wasn’t entirely sure- no, no he was barely sure at all- that what he was doing would be the right thing, but he had nothing else to go off of. So he parted flesh and let his tongue flick against muscle, heard Hannibal gasp, did it again with more force. He traced the ring of muscle, mind flooding him with the feeling of Hannibal doing it the night before, and then he was pushing his tongue past muscle and Hannibal groaned, reaching out to slip his arms under the pillows and clutch at the bed.

Will ran his hands along Hannibal’s thighs as he alternated between fucking his ass with his tongue and lapping at his entrance, daring to slip a hand between Hannibal’s thighs and cup his balls gently, before sliding his hand along his length. He hadn’t expected Hannibal to be this hard, and groaned at the feeling of rigid muscle under silken flesh. He stroked along him, feathery soft, and Hannibal made a little needy sound, one that had Will’s cock leaking against the front of his underwear.

He pulled back, scrambling away and reaching for the bedside table, finding a small bottle of lube inside- his mind told him it was there because Hannibal had fetched it from that same location the night before- and then he was back, pushing Hannibal over to his side, rolling him to his back, dripping the lube onto his fingers.

Hannibal had barely gotten his thighs spread when Will had one pushed inside him, choking on the feeling of tight heat, imagining his cock buried inside it. He whimpered himself, slowly thrusting the finger before adding the second, and Hannibal drew his knees up to spread his legs more. He arched back, head tipped into the pillow, making small moans and gasps Will hadn’t know the man was capable of. Will fucked him slowly, not wanting to hurt him, trying to think how Hannibal had done it. He spread his fingers and Hannibal gave a loud groan. Will did it again, thrust a few times, spread his fingers, set a rhythm that stretched Hannibal for him.

All the while he flicked his eyes along his body- the rise and fall of his chest, the way his head tipped, tossed. The way his cock lay heavy and leaking on his belly. Enticing.

Will leaned forward, grasped it with his other hand, sucked the head into his mouth and stroked, tongue flicking along his slit. Hannibal gave a startled gasp, a broken, “Wi-ll,” that made Will’s heart stop and his muscles spasm for a moment. He pushed deeper, curled his fingers, felt along Hannibal’s insides and then the man was arching, gasping.

“Again,” he whispered, and Will wasn’t _entirely_ sure what he’d done, but he felt around again until he got the desired reaction- Hannibal arching, his cock jerking, leaking against his tongue. Will pushed a third finger into his body, thrust up and hit that spot, until he was blind with need. Hannibal tasted too good on his tongue, felt too good around his fingers.

He pulled out, grabbing the lube and hopping off the bed, tugging his underwear down and kicking them away. He poured the lube into his hand and stroked himself, then grabbed Hannibal by his legs, tugging him so he was turning, pulled to the edge of the bed, his legs loosely pressed to Will’s hips.

Will didn’t ask if he was ready. He didn’t need to, not with the way Hannibal lifted, how he pushed himself down onto Will as he lined the head of his cock up with his hole. Will groaned as he was taken in, inch by inch, letting out a gasp when he had nothing left to give. He reached for Hannibal’s legs at his sides, guided them up until they rested against his shoulders, and the man was looking up with wide, dark eyes- hungry, in awe.

Will smirked and snapped his hips, pulling out and thrusting in, and those eyes were closed and Hannibal was groaning, hands clutching at the bed. Will was lost in that heat, the way Hannibal seemed to pull him in- not to mention the way he was displayed for him, head tipped back, cock hard and flushed and leaking, his legs pushed up against Will’s chest and shoulders. Will wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything more alluring in his life.

He reached down and ran his hands along Hannibal’s thighs as he thrust, letting his own groans mingle in with Hannibal’s small sounds. He wanted to touch Hannibal but didn’t want to let go of him- didn’t want the sweet angle to change. A bit more force and then Hannibal was crying out, eyes snapping open- and Will had found that spot he’d been looking for.

“Will-iam,” he gasped, and he was reaching for himself, grasping his cock and stroking and Will was licking his lips and _watching_.

“Is this good, Hannibal?” Another deep thrust, another bitten off cry, a nod. Hannibal’s hand was moving quickly, and Will wondered how close he was. “How close are you?” Another impact, another cry.

“Far closer,” he spoke, licking his lips, “than I should be.” He lifted his hips as best he could, and Will found it easier to hit his prostate with every stroke, leaving Hannibal gasped. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug at bringing the doctor so close already- although Will himself was teetering on the edge, and he felt a sense of urgency to get Hannibal there as well- not wanting this to be over until he was undone.

Will pushed in harder, fucked Hannibal with more force than he had ever used on anyone before- he’d never had the courage for that- but Hannibal, he took it gladly and called out to him, arching and contorting so sweetly that Will was about to lose himself. “Fuck you’re perfect,” Will breathed, finding Hannibal’s prostate with a thrust strong enough that the man was giving a sharp cry, tensing, his muscles working around Will in a way that took his breath away. Hannibal groaned with each thrust Will gave into his orgasming body, his cock spurting up along his stomach and chest. Will watched, biting back his orgasm until Hannibal’s was dying down, before he growled, releasing inside him until his body was forcing nothingness into that body and it nearly hurt.

Will pulled out, guiding Hannibal’s legs down, panting. He crawled onto the bed, sititng next to Hannibal, who was staring up at the ceiling, pupils blown.

“Was that o-kay?” Will asked, breathless, and Hannibal looked at him, giving him a smile that went up to his eyes.

“You may judge that yourself,” he said, and Will laughed, leaning down and kissing him, tasting his mouth and loving the way Hannibal reached up and sank a hand into his curls.

Later, sprawled on the bed in his underwear and Hannibal’s red sweater, he’d think he never wanted to leave that bed, so long as he lived. Later, he’d appreciate whatever brass courage had told him to ask Hannibal to come back to bed with him.

Later, he’d ask Hannibal if he wanted to relive the last night, and this time he’d make sure to catalog every touch, leave nothing to be a blur of frantic, needy caresses that his mind had to piece together. He’d memorize _everything_.

**Author's Note:**

> I want Will to wear Hannibal's red sweater with nothing but his underwear so badly.


End file.
